


The Talk

by Custardo



Category: Night at the Museum (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24810637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Custardo/pseuds/Custardo
Summary: With a cross of his arms, Jedediah made the move to speak, and even with such an uncomfortable expression, that any other would find unattractive, Octavius found him ever the more breath taking. He loathed it. "...Whydya ask me ta hold yer hand?"- Turns out that cultural differences and prejudices do kinda get in the way
Relationships: Jedediah/Octavius (Night at the Museum)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 152





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> edited, and i find it so much easier to read now, hope u enjoy and agree

Octavius trailed Jedediah's boot prints in the sand of the Old West's diorama, it was especially reminiscent of the time they had crashed Larry's toy car and had no choice but to follow the dinosaur's tracks back home. A small quirk came to the Roman's lips - despite the fear at the time.

He and Jedediah had spent so many years fighting, all those wasted years when he could have found his best friend from the very start. 

-

"Okay, Ockie get your ass in." A tent flap was being held open, by a crouched Jedediah who was already seated inside. With a rather unusual expression, yet Jedediah was always unusual.

"It seems rather small doesn't it?" Even for a miniature.

"Well that's 'cause us 'ere Americans aren't as all high-and-mighty show-y off as you Romans. Now get in, ma arm's gettin' tired!"   
Octavius took pause to remove his helmet before entering such a low tent, he supposed it wasn't exactly Jedediah's fault but the museum's owners. Placing it outside, comfortable that it wouldn't go missing now that he had gained the respect of Jedediah's people, and crawled inside. 

-

It was quite small indeed, even attempting to sit at a respectable distance proved to be an impossible task, sandals meeting boots even with them both crossed-legged. However, Jedediah had insisted on privacy, and if this is the place he deemed acceptable, then Octavius would share his sentiment also.

The energy was no longer what Jedediah radiated before on the turntables, dancing to the strange new music that Octavius had begrudgingly taken a liking too. His friend shooting a crooked grin and a wink, while sweating and moving his body without a care, had caused the Roman's heart to write a thousand sonnets and more. The split second vision had causing such a strange flower to blossom in his chest and he wasn't rather sure if it was pain or pleasure. How odd.

A pale forefinger and thumb twiddled a strap on his sandal whilst lost in his thoughts - he hadn't done that since he was a child. The sensation that he had came to know so well settled over the feelings that had sparked from the vision of Jedediah. He wasn't real. These memories, and emotions, were fabrications after all. He was never a child, not really.

A sound of fabric rustling brought his gaze up to his friend, witnessing a rather disappointing sight.

His friend's dark-brown hat was being pulled with an necessary amount of strength over his deep blue eyes, the stetson wrinkling under how tight he was gripping it, tanned knuckles growing white. Texan drawl coming from under its brim. "Uh, ah don't quite know how ta put this..." Sounding tentative, if it were possible for Jedediah to sound as such. 

Now this was pain in his chest, Octavius was familiar with this sensation all too well, he had sensed Jedediah had been keeping something to himself for a while now. Having had lots of time to torture himself over the years they were so abruptly frozen. Jedediah must have done the same. 

Octavius spoke, gentle. "What plagues you, friend?" Ignoring how his finger twitched, itching to move and place itself on denim-clad knee.

"Its just-" The stetson was pulled even tighter and deeper over his face, cutting himself off and choosing instead to groan into his hat than finish the seemingly important statement.

Octavius, always having been the more patient of the pair chose the path of silence, he had waited three years to see his friend once more, surely he could give the man an extra few moments to collect his thoughts.

"Dadgum it, ya know I'm not the most, uh, whats it called..."

"Shy?"

This appeared to be an incorrect suggestion as the cowboy had removed the hat with the pure intention of glaring in Octavius's direction. The Roman found he didn't mind as much as he quite possibly should - that would require further analyzation later, during the next day. Those years had not been enough, apparently.

"Now you know I'm not as lily-livered as you, that goes without sayin', so don't even start on that! What ah meant to say was... articulate." Ah. 

A beat passed and Jedediah broke his glare for only a moment, throwing the hat on his knee, having gained enough courage to refrain from hiding his face all together, at least. He really shouldn't have started hiding it at all, it was quite an attractive face.

"Are ya paying attention or what? This ain't easy for me ya know!" Oh yes there was a conversation to be had.

"Yes! I was merely... reflecting on what a joyous night the celebrations had been." Octavius never lied.

The cowboy lazily waved his friend's statement off, slouching against the tent, causing it to strain against the pegs keeping it stable and over their heads, much to Octavius's dismay. He was always the one who held the burden of worry for the two, to make up for Jedediah's often times foolish, albeit brave, behavior.

"Well ah hope ah don't ruin the mood bud, but after having all that time to think, it got me wonderin'... 'bout stuff." 

Oh dear. "Stuff?" If his voice came out strangled, neither made comment. 

With a cross of his arms, Jedediah made the move to speak, and even with such an uncomfortable expression, that any other would find unattractive, Octavius found him ever the more breath taking. He loathed it. "...Whydya ask me ta hold yer hand? Ah mean ah know _why_ since you thought we were gonna die an' all, but why?" Despite his friend's vague wording, he understood. Unfortunately.

"Ah."

"An' then you go and call that dadgum knight's eyes 'hypnotic', and say all these... _queer_ things. It ain't right and you're ma best friend, Octy." Sky blue eyes, that sang such a usually wonderful melody, now bore a harsh intense gaze. Octavius couldn't bare witnessing his friend's pupils twitch to each different section of his face, carefully mapping each subtle expression being made. Oh he had been a fool.

"Ah." What a terrible terrible fool.

Jedediah shuffled, his eyes falling to study his boots instead of his friend's reactions. "It ain't really normal to be sayin', or thinkin', stuff about fellas like that." The cowboy pursed his lips and blue eyes met brown.

Octavius began once more.

"If you say 'ah' one more time, ah swear-" The stetson had appeared once more, Jedediah slipping it back onto his unruly hair and burying his face in his knees. It was as if he wanted to pull himself away, make himself a small as possible to Octavius's eyes. Shielding. "It goes against God." His speech was muffled but the Roman's ears heard it as clear as the artificial bird song in the Old West's Mountains.

His mouth formed a grim line at the biting words, Octavius may not know much about Jedediah's 'God' but he knew very well of this uncomfortable taboo. He'd gotten too comfortable and now he had made his close and only friend fearful of him, no, fearful for him. At least, that is what he hoped, even the mere exercising of the thought of his loss had caused the deep, crippling ache in his chest to cave deeper. All of a sudden, he could not breathe for an entirely different reason. 

  
Jedediah had looked up now, an expression on his visage that Octavius couldn't name, but he had seen it before. He had bore witness to it in his father's eyes, in Clodia's, Scribonia's... his heart grew tighter. Love was always painful.

"I see, 'Diah." He cleared his throat, feeling very much like having swallowed the sand they had trekked. 

A very uncomfortable air hung in the tent, heavier than before, Octavius wondered how they even breathed at all, not because they were plastic, but due to the fact that every ounce of happiness was sucked out of the space they shared and replaced with misery, agony and pure unadulterated pain.

  
Many of the other 'exhibits' had laughed at the Romans for their practices with sexuality, but they had greatly misunderstood. Love between men was never allowed. A great shame crossed his being, consuming him entirely. It hurt so dearly. He did not pray often, but now in the tent he prayed that Jedediah simply believed some surface level rumor, and didn't know the complex dark truth. _Ignorantia sit beatitudo._

Octavius must have shown his emotions too clearly, been to vulnerable, as the cowboy was now showing pity in the pull of his eyebrows, a down-turn to his lips. Sadness expressed in his beautiful eyes that often sparkled with glee. "Aw come on now, it ain't that bad. Octy ah didn't mean-" 

For once Octavius dreaded Jedediah's touch, the cold glove bore no warmth, no love, and was only gracing his hand now out of the same emotion one would show a wounded lion.

"Do not touch me!" Jolting back, his bearing weight on the tent was the farthest thing from Octavius's mind.  
Betrayal swam through his veins, directly to his heart. He had often pondered why they breathed, why his eyes shed real tears when he had learned of Rome's fall, and now why his soul was throbbing so strongly. This was evidence that his heart did indeed exist - he desired it no longer did.

Jedediah, being Jedediah, had ignored him anyway. Whether it was due to bravery or simply the fact that he was so unaware of Octavius (the real Octavius)'s... colorfully violent history when provoked, didn't matter. 

The General was pulled forward, crying into his friend's shirt that suited _his_ hypnotic blue eyes, being comforted by a man he loved rather than merely desired and feeling such an agonizing wave of despair and humiliation. Feeling very much less than a shell of the man he was destined to be.

The glove smoothing his hair was not unpleasant, unfortunately. "Hey hey, Christ, Octy ah didn't realize it would upset ya that bad." Octavius could barely hear him over his own ragged breaths, his body unable to decide if it wanted more or less of Jedediah's voice. "We come from different times and everythin' so... I'm not mad just, confused is all. Hey, hey-" Pushing Octavius away, Jedediah then had to pull him back slightly once more, reading that the Roman misunderstood him as wishing for him to cease contact entirely. 

Worn leather-clad hands placed themselves either side of Octavius's jaw, thumbs sweeping tears away, being cradled so gently in this moment felt incorrect. That type of attention was usually reserved for precious valuables, not a forgotten failure of a Roman general who was deemed so unimportant that his memory was held in a two inch high plastic figurine. It was Jedediah that deserved much much more, more than what Octavius could give. A better experience than staring at a wall for however many hours the sun destined depending on the season.

Perhaps it was a selfish act since it was Octavius who caused the uncomfortable air that swam around them, but he did not want his mind's vision of Jedediah to be tainted also. Refusing to do anything other than squeeze his eyes shut and struggle to breathe. To see his friend's soul bearing pain also would hurt him so greatly he didn't think he could ever feel happiness once more.

"Octy! Quit it with your blamin' Roman dramatics and look at me!"

His eyes snapped open. 

"Warn a guy would ya before ya go and have a tantrum like that. Sheesh. Ah- ah guess I just never met, ya know, someone like that before. Didn't realize it would make ya... ya know." Jedediah removed his hand from Octavius's cheek to allow a waving motion finish his sentence. Octavius read every movement, breath and pause from Jedediah as if it were air to a drowning man. Perhaps, he had overreacted slightly, they were in a different world now, weren't they? Jedediah hadn't ran away, and had willingly danced with him hours prior.

But then why were his other words so harsh?

The Roman allowed a sad smile to grace his expression, only slightly forced. "If you say 'ya know' one more time." It was an attempt at a joke, to clear the clinging atmosphere and it proved fruitful at least. Jedediah flashing a genuine grin at his echoed, yet empty, threat from moments ago. 

"There ya go!" A punishment of a shove to the shoulders with both hands was also, unfortunately, the cowboy's method of showing affection. The loss of contact, with glove or not, chipped away at the small relief he was just given. 

As the touch ceased, Jedediah settled back to his previous crossed-leg position, Octavius mimicked him, a craving for some sort of common ground. But the sight of his friend wiping his gloves on his jeans, as if they were caked with dirt, hurt greatly. He felt worse, but no more tears came.

With a clearing of his throat, the crooked smile was gone and had returned back to its more rare and serious expression.

Octavius spied a the small circle of confetti stuck to his sandal and flicked it away.

A whisper broke from Jedediah, directed to the tent's roof, more than Octavius. "So uh, what's it like? To um, feel like that?" 

The mood shifting so rapidly was difficult for Octavius to process, still feeling lingering pain. It had not ceased entirely, these were uncharted waters and Jedediah had made his feelings more than clear. "Pardon?"

The stetson was grabbed at again, but was now being pushed further down, covering the top half of Jedediah's face. "Gah! Tofeellikethatforanotherfella!" Why would Jedediah want to know?

For merely a moment, Octavius entertained the thought of leaving the tent, surely anything else happening in the museum would be less cruel than this. Perhaps fleeing from curious cavemen would prove an interesting experience? Or a disobedient monkey picking him up by his paludamentum? But now Jedediah was peaking out from under his hat, and the handsome face, despite the pain it caused, convinced him to stay. "It is difficult to describe. I wouldn't want to... upset you any greater than you already are."

"You seem like the big baby here, kemosabe! Cryin' away like that." His tone wore anger at first, yet Jedediah sobered upon seeing his friend about to break down once more. "No, no, no!.. Is it really that, bad? It don't feel good?" Rising slightly, preparing for another outburst.

A broken hiccup of a laugh sounded from Octavius at his friend's absolute naivete. "It feels... like nothing else." A sympathetic look was sent in his direction, the cowboy obviously misunderstanding. "Wonderful." 

Jedediah blinked, head shooting up. "Wai- what? Huh? Ah thought... Whydya get so flamin' cryin' then?" His lip curling in an unusual expression. Octavius chose not to dwell on what it could mean.

"I thought you wouldn't want to be!... friends any longer." He was thankful he could not hear how unbearably sorrowful his voice was, due to the rush of blood in his ears. It was not dissimilar to the sensation before a battle. Just before the sword was drawn, when the air was still, yet every sense was heightened.

A fake, slightly-too-loud laugh broke from his friend. Jedediah shaking his head in a manner far too exaggerated even for his usual method of movement. "Octy, you are pretty darn stupid ya know that? Ah guess ah could of said it better but it's hard! Didn't think ah had to say that it wouldn't make me see bad of ya." A regretful tone had taken his speech. Shame. 

A booted toe nudged his sandal, images of the pair clutching their stomachs laughing at a kitten doing a very similar movement to a fake plastic snake ran through his mind. A nearly invisible smile crossed his lips. Yes, this was Jedediah, his friend and closest confidant...

  
Octavius was at a loss for words, now feeling numb after such an overwhelming onslaught of emotion, fortunately Jedediah had some to spare, explaining himself further.

"Ya said its 'wonderful'" Even such a simple word sounding foreign coming from the cowboy's unusual twang. "But ah only ever hear bad things about... that type ah thing.

"What things?" It was important they reading from the same text, so to speak.

Jedediah shifted, eyes pointed at his own boot once more."Ya know, burn in Hell for all'a eternity, that sorta thing." He shifted once more. "An' it kinda sounds gross." Thankfully the cowboy did not continue, seemingly oblivious to other wider-spread misconceptions and rumors.

In an attempt to ease his companion's obvious discomfort, Octavius used his most gentle tone. "Jedediah. I believe our mere existence proves that Hell is not real. Many of the people we have met in this life would be there."

"Ah guess..." The soft drawl trailed off at the end, if it were any other conversation Octavius would describe it as peaceful. Rolling so smoothly from the tongue. His accent was refreshing, pleasant. Different from what he knew.

Burying his stubbled chin into his neckerchief, a peculiar scrunch of the nose and pull of the eyebrows crossed Jedediah. Finally, looking into Octavius's eyes, he voiced what thoughts had caused the expression. "Does it hurt?"

Octavius knew he did not mean Hell. "'Diah!"

Hands threw themselves up in defense. "Sorry, sorry!" He did not sound very sorry, but it was always difficult to read Jedediah. The hands placed themselves back down to the exposed sand beneath, supporting his weight.

If his friend was to understand he was not a threat, it was best to be honest. "...I don't know, I have never..." Neither were brave enough to word what they were actually discussing.

"Oh." Jedediah looked relieved at this. Possibly thankful that the sin was not acted upon at least. "It probably would hurt since you're so small and he's-"

"What are you saying right now!?" He was still thinking about the knight? 

"I don't know! What am ah meant ta ask?"

"Why are you asking at all? If we remain as we are then why are you so curious?" What Jedediah refereed to as his 'commander voice' had slipped through. He did not regret it.

The cowboy had the audacity to look sheepish, as if he were the one being interrogated about such acts. "Dunno..." Slowly wiggling his boot left to right, expression very distant and deep in thought.

Octavius perhaps didn't want to know just what was going through his friend's mind right now.

A whisper so gentle he could have missed it, came from Jedediah's lips. "Ah never even knew that was possible till you." His face twisted, grimacing uncomfortably. "Never gave it any thought before. Heck, ah was too scared too ah bet." Tone becoming its normal volume (which tended to be on the slightly-too-loud) level for Jedediah. 

Octavius's temper settled, Jedediah did not mean to cause him pain, he was just voicing his own internal demons in the Roman's direction. He could be tolerant of his bluntness for now. "Your God does not sound very pleasant." A muscle twitched in his thigh but he ignored it.

Itching his nose, the cowboy replied but it seemed more of an automatic response. "'Suppose." Listening to his own thoughts, more than likely. 

They sat in silence. Jedediah wiggling to out-stretch his legs as much as possible. Boot swinging side to side once more, it knocked the straps of Octavius's pteruges (Jedediah's voice sang in his ears, referring to it as a skirt) a few times. But neither man reacted.

He was patient for three years. Waiting more wasn't going to cause any more turmoil than usual.

-

Jedediah pulled his legs back up, loosely hugging his knees as opened his lips, preparing to break the air. With hooded eyes peering through lashes, his voice was soft, as if they needed to whisper. "Ya reacted pretty bad there friend, ya sure there's nothin' else?"

"Rome held some, grotesque punishments." Pausing only to purse his lips. "I would prefer if this remained a private matter. And you were quite brutish."

Jedediah hung his head in embarrassment muttering "'m sorry." Before his head abruptly came back up, holding a skeptical expression for a few moments, looking off to the stained side of the tent. "What? Ah thought- What with all the statues."

"It is a complicated matter." He did not wish to explain further.

Jedediah was always curious, however. "...How?" 

"Only one male would be punished. He who took the... submissive role - if they were not a slave, of course."

"Ye- Wait. Slave?! Now, ah was bein' open minded but now-"

"I do not agree with it, I am simply answering your inquiry. I..." He didn't know how to explain himself. Who even was he? These memories were not his own, nor the thoughts he could not control. It was a curse to bear a ghost's burden this way. He had grown tired, but dawn was not for a while still, a punishment or reward from winter he was not sure. He continued."Men make me feel as women should."

"Ah got that Octy." A blush played across tanned skin, despite it enhancing the crookedness of his friend's nose, he still found him appealing. Octavius felt the familiar twist of pain and pleasure in his chest. 

With the smallest shake of his head, whether to clear his thoughts or respond, he was not sure, Octavius whispered his reply. "You misunderstand me." Irritation was brewing in his blood, but it was not Jedediah's fault, it was his own self hatred and confusion swimming in his veins. Metaphorical or not, did not matter. "I would be, respectful. Kind. Loving." Unlike him. He whose memories he shared.

"Treatin' a... fella... the way ya should treat a lady." A pout of the lips formed, he could practically see the cogs turning in his friend's mind. He hoped he would understand.

Octavius nodded, more clearly this time.

-

Jedediah was drawing shapes in the sand beneath them, Octavius could not make out what it was meant to be from this angle but, never wanting to look desperate, it was difficult to refrain from angling his head to get a closer look. It was probably something silly anyway.

"So... slaves? And ya said my God was bad. Geez."

"That was decided by men, not Gods."

A gloved finger continued its swirling in the grains. "Stupid."

"We agree." Octavius allowed a small amount of tension to relieve itself from his shoulders. Maybe this would end with more understanding, and they could forget the uncomfortable conversation ever happened.

-

"So..."

"So."

"The knight."

Octavius did not hold in his sigh. He regretted the childish action once it slipped his lips. "What about him?"

"Well, why him? Why not... the tablet guy."

"Why would I be interested in Ahkmenrah?" 

"I dunno. Jus' tryin' ta see it how you do."

"'Diah, I cannot help what features I find attractive. I hardly see how the specifics matter." When Jedediah made no move to react, instead moving from the sand and instead choosing to play with a small strand of hay that had found its way inside the tent, Octavius continued. "Do you find him attractive?"

"What! No! He looks goofy! His hair's too long ta start, his eyes are too small, an' did ya see his nose when Gigantor gave him what? He's uglier than a burnt boot." 

"I meant Ahkmenrah, as you suggested yourself."

"Oh." Relief. Confusion. Then finally rage swept his features. "Hey whatdya mean anyway! Ah don't like men!"

"You were the one who suggested him, Ahkmenrah, Jedediah. No need to grow a temper."

"Am not!" Seemingly growing aware, that he was indeed, growing said temper he deflated. "Am not..." Appearing very much as a petulant child would when scolded. The piece of hay now broken in two.

Swallowing, Octavius attempted to be as diplomatic as he was able. The sweltering heat of emotions were causing it to be a rather difficult process, however. "I apologize. You said you have never thought about this before, it can be quite... difficult to process at first."

"Hey, now ya makin' it sound like I'm like you!" An accusing finger pointed at the Roman's chest as if signalling where to fire, if only his guns worked. 

Not his best wording then. "I did not intend to." 

"Well," Now aiming at himself, Jedediah ever loving the dramatic effect. "I'm not."

"Okay."

"Never even thought about it."

"I understand."

Jedediah opened his mouth once more, but closed it before any more of his denials could be expelled into the air. Gritting his teeth and crawling his way past Octavius who was seated at the entrance. 

Octavius ignored how the sweep of fabric to his arms felt no different than a blade. 


	2. Chapter 2

The sun had risen and set no more than four times since Jedediah stormed out the tent that night. No more, no less. Four days and nights since Octavius made the shameful journey to his own diorama, hours before sunrise, to the surprise of his soldiers. He waved off the manufactured concern, coming to the conclusion it was best to wait for his friend to return to him, in due time.  
It was how their relationship functioned, Jedediah destined to fall into the driving seat without the pair saying a word on the matter. It was sometimes a relief to not be the one in control. Yet, if the right air was swimming around the two, Jedediah didn't complain when Octavius happened to get into the wrong side of the car.

  
With each sight of the stars, he could only hope that his dear friend wasn't getting into any unsavory situations. Driving with no passenger.

-

The contortions of worry were beginning to increase in his soldiers, Octavius wondered just how far their eyebrows could pull and frowns could stretch before they couldn't go any further. In return, his men received a bark of an order for them to carry out some meaningless exercise just so he wouldn't have to look at them for a moments longer.   
Octavius had resigned himself to his quarters. A simple building, only meant to be viewed from it's exterior, causing a disturbing lack of furniture for him to recline onto and wallow. He hadn't even been graced with the luxury of seeing his cowboy come to and fro from the Old West's diorama.

 _His_ cowboy? 

A quick flash of the urge to squeeze his nails into his palms came to him, yet he refrained. Pressing palms flat to his shin guards, waiting for the rush of blood in his ear drums to pass. It always does eventually.

-

His breathing soon cleared, slower than it came. Blinking his sticking eyelids apart he felt the tell tail wetness of his eyelashes against his cheeks. Tears that burned his skin, a mark of how little of a man he truly was. How he had been so pathetic that Jedediah had to hold him as if he were a babe. 

The absence of armor and helmet did not relieve him of the weight beating down upon him. The weight he could not detach from his body.   
How could he have been so foolish, to not only make the mistake of feeling such a desire but to then voice it, expelling it into the air?  
  
  


As he slid down the carved wall, his tunic caught on a few rough sections of the brick, scratching, clawing and biting as he fell. If he was pressing a touch too hard or slightly too slow to be explained as anything other than self-torture, then it did not matter. And if Octavius's was as prone to sighing as his western friend, then he may have done so in the moment, childish or not. Perhaps he could sleep, just for one night. Then go seek his cowboy tomorrow.

-

  
Jedediah came. Swearing, panting and red faced. Only Jedediah could hold anger for five nights. The visitors of the museum in no doubt pointing out the 'angry cowboy' as he stood frozen in the days.

Octavius barely had a few blinks after waking before the door slammed and he was pulled to his feet.

Red tunic was clenched in bunched up fists, Jedediah sobbing into the Octavius's chest. A sob so loud, so raw, it caused such a wrench of his heart that it felt as though it was he in Jedediah's place. Well, he was that night in the tent wasn't he? After the torturous discussion that had taken place.

"Yer fault ah'm feelin' this way. Yer a devil, Oct- Octavius." Jedediah hissed his name as if he were naming a serpent, breath choking off in a harsh cough. "Name even sounds like a devil, somethin' nasty an' evil." A slam of a fist hit Octavius's chest, but he did no more than witness it. Experiencing a numbness to the physicality.

Not for the first time, he wished the God's had not made him this way, for now he had hurt the only man he had ever loved. 

Love. What a silly thing.

"'Diah-" "I can only express my sincerest apologies-"

"Quit fuckin' talkin' like that! You!" A gloved finger stabbed into his sternum, strong just as the rest of its body. "You." Jedediah pulled his head away from his chest, moving as if it weighed on his shoulders as heavy as the argument felt. Once his face broke contact with Octavius's tunic, both sets of eyes fell to the dark tear-stained fabric. Neither mentioned it. "Why can't ya just take it like a man?" Harsh wording for such a soft Texan drawl.

Now Jedediah looked into his eyes, blue pools enhanced by the blood shot veins surrounding them. His hot breaths puffed heavy onto the Roman's pale cheeks, due to their closeness. Surely, this should be an unattractive angle to view a man like Jedediah, blackheads, red splotched cheeks and golden curls now dulled by the sweat sticking them to tanned skin. Yet his friend ever the more beautiful. Natural. Breathing. Real.

Jedediah had came to him and if Jedediah had decided that whatever move Octavius did or didn't make, or what he said or didnt say, was the incorrect path, then he would follow the heart that pumped the blood rushing under his skin. _Take it like a man._

No other thought came. Octavius ripping the clutched fingers from his tunic, fabric now probably stretched and ruined. But he did not care, Jedediah had caused it, it simply added to another memory on his person to study when the pair were away from one another, next to his scars that only he and Jedediah knew of. The gloves were peeled with little resistance, falling to the floor with a gentle pat, from a man who once proclaimed he didn't like "bein' manhandled". Maintaining the fact that their gazes were locked to one another, he took both of Jedediah's hands in his. Clasped together as if they were beginning to pray.

  
"I do not care who made who and I do not care what your God thinks, for as I know that I do not only desire you Jedediah, I feel pain when we are not in company, a pain so fierce I was begging the Gods to take in my sleep mere moments ago, but instead they send you to me." The pain he felt when they were together was not important.

"Answer to yer prayers yeah?"

Octavius pressed his forehead to Jedediah's, both men's skin sticking to one another's, it should be uncomfortable. Yet, it was not. No emotion or sensation felt correct whenever he was with his friend. Perhaps, this would not end well, but perhaps it may. It was always taking risks with Jedediah.

  
The western man's eyes fell closed, a pink tongue swiping across his lips before whispering so gentle it could have been a part of his dream. "Don'know whether ah wanna punch ya or kiss ya." He was angelic, and Octavius was nothing of the sort. 

"Whatever you desire. I, as well."

Lips met lips.

**Author's Note:**

> this was meant to be fluff but I wanted it to be accurate, and if they were real jedediah probably would have a few words to say to octavius's behaviour


End file.
